


Imperfection is Beauty

by Arachne_Arachnid



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU where Komaeda has wings and Hajime is an agent working under Togami, M/M, More tags will be added as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8853289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arachne_Arachnid/pseuds/Arachne_Arachnid
Summary: Nagito Komaeda has been beaten and abused for having been born with wings; kidnapped by the criminal organization 'Monokuma' .  There, he is caged like a bird and forced to perform acts for a crowd, much like the others living there, where their deformities are branded 'beautiful'.  He goes through extreme torture, all because of his captor, Junko Enoshima, the leader of Monokuma, but what happens when one day an agent working for the police organization, 'Future Foundation', breaks into Monokuma and saves Komaeda?  The awkward story between a maniac and an agent that just wants to have a day off of work unfolds.





	1. Monokuma

The fluorescent light radiating down from the silver chandelier hanging on the ceiling made the metal bars of Komaeda’s enclosure gleam, and he buried his face into the soft, velvety fabric of his orchid colored couch. His pale skin seemed to glow in the luminescence, littered with dark purples and grays that melded together to form nasty bruises that ached with each movement he made. He fluttered his dull grayish blue eyes open, the black collar around his neck clinking as he lifted himself up, the light blue jewels encrusted on it glinting. His cage was rather small, he noticed this for the third time that day, with a velvet rug spread out across the silver floor tiles, and a bed pressed against the iron bars meant to confine him. The mattress was comfortable, and the sheets were cleaned every day, but Komaeda preferred the couch over it for many reasons.

He didn’t fancy the thick white blankets, as they were far too heavy, and he often got tangled in the veil draped over the bed. And, that bed harbored too many upsetting memories that Komaeda would rather not recall. He shuddered, wrapping his arms around his thin torso in an attempt to make himself warmer. Usually, he was provided with an elegant white robe that kept him comfortable for the most part, but now, he lay bare on his couch. On days where he didn’t receive any clothing, it meant that someone had paid to come into his enclosure. There were always a variety of different visitors, and typically, none of them were just there to look. Some would touch him and force him into things against his will, others took pleasure in his screams as they tortured him, and there were still more that enjoyed doing more to his frail body.

He’d never understood why; how people could truly be so evil that they could enslave someone just to use their body as a toy, but there really were people in the world who thought that it was _okay_. There was no other explanation for how well the industry did, especially since what they were doing was illegal. Known around the world as a criminal organization called, ‘Monokuma’, the deformed were enslaved because of their ‘beauty’, and treated like cattle. Komaeda had been one of the most unfortunate, as he had been born with wings, so he was forced to learn a melange of different acts that would get the crowd roaring. He didn’t know why so many people thought of him as beautiful, as he knew that down to his core, he was a rotten, disgusting creature forsaken by God.

Yet, still, people were attracted to the miscellany of different colored feathers adorned on his wings: the blacks and whites, the few crimson ones that most were so allured by. He thought that they were disgusting; they were just repulsive people lacking any hope whatsoever. Every one of them, he’d never seen anything in them other then despair, a sickening despair that had circulated throughout their blood like a disease, eating away at their core until they were nothing left but animals. He lived on the notion that ones without hope, without talent, were just stepladders meant to help the talented, and he’d readily offer his body up to anyone that fit in that category, but to be used by such repugnant people... _it filled him with despair_...

His thoughts were interrupted by the _click!_ of his lock coming undone, and he peered over his shoulder through two dull grayish blue eyes at whoever had entered his enclosure. Wielding a silver key that glinted in the light from the chandelier was someone whom Komaeda both loathed and loved: Junko Enoshima. Her strawberry blonde hair was cascading down and passed her hourglass figure loosely, not in their usual pigtails, and her lips curved upwards in a malicious grin as she stepped inside.

“Hiya there, little birdie,” She purposely spoke in a tone that grated on Komaeda’s nerves, and he outstretched his multicolored wings in a subconscious effort to appear threatening, feathers ruffled, but a male voice resounded behind Enoshima that sounded far more captivated then startled.

“His wings are so beautiful!” Komaeda winced immediately after the man spoke, momentarily blinded by a sudden light that enveloped the entire room, before blinking a few times to readjust his eyes. Another flash had him curled up in a ball, his wings forming a protective shield around him, but he submitted to the man’s photographing when Enoshima spoke in a lilting voice, “Oh, is Komaeda- _chan_ camera shy? Hey, hey, we can’t have that, now can we? Show him that playboy looking face of yours!”

“He’s even more gorgeous on the camera, Enoshima-san, look!” The man was ecstatic by the results of his pictures, and he gestured excitedly to his camera for Enoshima to view, his dark brown eyes lit up with joy.

She retrieved a pair of glasses from her pocket, leaning over the man’s shoulder to look at the photographs before deducing in an un-Enoshima-like voice, “That pure look does not suit him at all."

And just like that, she pulled off of the glasses, and returned back to her normal self, flashing the two of them a peace sign as she stepped out of the cage, “You’ve got an hour with him, no more then that, kay? I’ll come back to get you when your times up.” She slammed the door shut with an unnecessary force so that the whole enclosure shook, turning to glance at the two of them over her shoulder as she left. Her cheeks were puffed out, unnaturally pink and flushed, and her light blue eyes seemed to be bigger, giving off a cuter effect then usual, “Hey, Komaeda- _chan_ can take a lot, okay? He can be _soooooo_ cute, do whatever you’d like to him!”

He grimaced at her words, spoken in that voice dripping with sickeningly sweet honey so that she could tempt the man to do more to him.  Enoshima claimed that the more broken, the more beautiful, but Komaeda wasn't sure that she even knew what the word 'beautiful' meant.  He surely didn't fit into that category, but maybe someone as rotten as her thought that revolting things were _pure_ , as she often liked to call him, and the people that paid to watch him were just as bad as he himself was.  Everyone in the world, other then the talented, were foul creatures that were only born to serve those who were better then them.

"Hey, p-pose for me," He hadn't realized that he'd zoned out into his own little world until the man's restless voice resounded throughout the enclosure, and he flapped his wings once or twice as he tilted his head, his lips curving upwards into a serene smile.

"Specifics, please?" The words spilled passed his mouth automatically, silky and unnaturally sweet so that he gave off the illusion that he truly was as beautiful as everyone made him out to be, and he pretended to wait patiently for the man's reply, when in reality, he just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.  He had a performance soon, and this man appeared to be more despair-ridden then some of the others Komaeda had encountered, which made him shudder at the prospect of having to be _touched_ by said man.

"L-Lie on your side, stretch your wings out," though it was meant to be an order, Komaeda wanted to laugh at how feeble the other male's voice sounded, biting back a moan of pain when the cushions of the couch rubbed against one of the rope burns on his wrist, grimacing when he remembered the cruelty of the client that had left those marks.  He'd been one of the most violent ones.

Otherwise, it felt nice to outstretch his black and white wings, though the sudden flash of the camera made him wince, and he so desperately wanted to get away.  But there was no such mercy in the world, and he watched as the man hesitantly approached him, tentatively reaching out with his hand to touch the black and white feathers of his wings, fingers tracing delicate circles on to one of the crimson ones.  Komaeda didn't particularly dislike having his wings stroked, it actually felt _good_ , but it was as if they were being contaminated by despair each time anyone in this filthy place touched them.  Nonetheless, he remembered his role, and he angled his wing so that the man could pet him easier, smiling kindly at him as he spoke in a lilting voice, "...That feels nice... ah, could it be that you've never done anything like this before?"

He let out a small chuckle, one that was meant to sound embarrassed, before he quickly added, "Ah, that was a stupid question, wasn't it?  ...Of course this is..."

The man didn't seem to be listening, so enchanted by Komaeda's wings that he barely made any movement, any sound; just stroked the colorful feathers with such tenderness that it was as if he were handling a fragile antique that would shatter if treated even the slightest bit rough.  His hands wandered up and down, slow and gentle, until they strayed from his wings and on to his paper-white skin, starting at his cheek.  He caressed Komaeda's face, bringing him closer so that he could play with the wild white strands of the boy's hair, which smelled of the vanilla shampoo he'd used in the shower earlier.

"...So beautiful..." He breathed out, and nausea festered within the pit of Komaeda's stomach when the man moved in to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips, flapping his wings a couple of times in panic, before eventually submitting to the male.

He gasped out when the man pushed him into the soft, orchid-colored cushions of the couch, his wings squished uncomfortably under him.  The bruises littering his hips ached as the photographist peppered his neck with kisses, straddling Komaeda so that he had better access to the boy's pale skin.  He stroked the white-haired male's chest tenderly, leaving marks up and down his throat while simultaneously grinding his hips against Komaeda's own.  It was humiliating, but he bit back any protest, knowing that in the end, his efforts would be futile.

 _...Disgusting... this despair..._ He tried to wriggle free from the man's grip when his hands started exploring the lower parts of Komaeda's body, his fingers brushing against the tip of the white-haired boy's cock.

He began gently stroking up and down the winged male's shaft, eliciting a moan from him that was quickly cut off by a ravenous kiss, one that was both sloppy and desperate, and this time he forced his tongue passed Komaeda's lips.  Involuntarily bucking his hips against the photographists hand, he had to bite back a gag as his body was ravaged, the man's erection pressing disgustingly against his thigh.  When the male finally broke the kiss, Komaeda was left gasping for air, his mind a haze of ecstasy and revulsion.  Pre-cum trickled from his cock, and he let out a whine as the man began unbuckling his belt, wishing so desperately that he could just disappear from this world, to escape from the inevitable that he knew was coming.

He gazed up at the ceiling of his enclosure as the man drew him closer, his dull grayish blue eyes swirling with layers upon layers of despair that left him feeling sick.  The man took no notice of his laughter, nor saw the truly hopeless look on Komaeda's face.

~*~

Komaeda fluttered his dreary blue eyes open, grimacing against the light radiating down from the chandelier.  He didn't remember what time he'd fallen asleep, or, _lost consciousness_ , but the gnawing ache flaring throughout his body was enough to make him let out a whimper, and he curled in on himself, entangled in the soft white sheets of his bed.  He'd been washed, the dampness and vanilla scent of his hair made that clear, and he let out a relieved sigh when he realized that he was in his white robe.  He buried his face in his pillow, wondering briefly if maybe his performance had been cancelled, until a quiet cough resounded from outside of his enclosure.

Mustering up enough strength to lift his head up, he turned to glance over his shoulder at what he expected to be a bustling crowd full of onlookers (He thought that Junko had let them in while he was sleeping so that he'd be caught off guard when he woke up), only to meet gazes with one lone man.  His face seemed to be permanently set in a frown, and he had light green eyes that rivaled the beauty of Komaeda's own, his skin fairly pale, yet tanner then the white-haired boy's.  He seemed caught off guard, obviously having not expected Komaeda to awaken, but he cleared his throat a second time before speaking, "...Um... I'm sorry I woke you up..."

Komaeda assembled the best smile he could, letting out a light-hearted chuckle and flapping his wings a couple of times, before replying, "There's no need to apologize."

The man nodded in acknowledgement of his words, his gaze never leaving Komaeda as he spoke in a tone that sounded kind of out of it, "...I'm kind of in a hurry, sorry..."

"Ah, it's okay," He reassured the stranger, his lips curving upwards into a smile as he continued innocently, "But, if you don't mind someone like me asking, why were you just standing there if you have somewhere you need to be?"

Contrary to Komaeda's expectations, the man didn't appear to be effected by the question, and instead he replied in a level tone of voice, "That's not really any of your business."

He pretended to readjust his tie, finally breaking gazes with Komaeda as he murmured, "...I have to go..."

He didn't delay any longer, and the loud  _thud!_ of his black shoes making contact with the floor filled Komaeda's ears as the white-haired boy watched the man's retreating back, noting that he was wearing a very elaborate looking black suit that did his thin figure justice.  The sound of the door slamming as the man exited resounded throughout the room, and Komaeda settled himself back down on to his bed, gazing jadedly up at the ceiling through two dull blue eyes.  He pondered over what had just occurred, aware that the entire ordeal had been far too suspicious.  It was peculiar because Junko always accompanied anyone who wanted to see Komaeda, yet she had been nowhere in sight, and it was obvious that the man had been lying about having to leave.

"Komaeda- _chan_ ~!" His thoughts were interrupted by the singsong voice of Enoshima, and his expression contorted into disgust when he saw the woman ambling towards his cage, a mocking grin on her face, "Hey, hey, what's with the look?  And I even cancelled your show since you were feeling bad, how mean~!"

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he narrowed his grayish blue eyes, the soft, silky tone he possessed when seducing clients now raspy and dripping with obvious annoyance, "You're the reason I'm feeling bad in the first place."

His lips curved upwards into a sullen smirk, and he glared at the woman as he continued, " _Right_ , Ultimate Despair?"

She burst into laughter, wiping the tears out of her eyes with one long nail, painted an unappealing hot pink color, "... _Hahahahaha_!  Oh, wow, you're hilarious!  Listen up, Hope Fanboy, it's just business."

Komaeda let out an aggravated sigh, wishing that he could just crawl back under his covers and go to sleep, " _What do you want_?"

Her expression contorted into one that looked enraged, but Komaeda had gotten used to the fact that Enoshima could switch personalities at the drop of a hat, so when she spat out her response at him, he wasn't affected in the slightest, "Is that anyway to ask for something?  Fucking asshole!"

She returned to her normal self in a matter of seconds, grinning ear to ear as she continued, " _Buuuuut_ , I'll tell my pure little birdie what's going on!  You're gonna be performing soon!"

Komaeda's expression darkened at her words, and the aching of his body became more apparent as he moved, the blankets toppling down and off of his body, landing in a heap on his lap.

" _Ahahahaha_!  There's the despair I love to see!  Tsumiki's gonna be numbing that pretty little head of yours up with some painkillers, so lets hope you don't do anything embarrassing during the show!" She giggled, brushing a strand of her light blonde hair out of her eyes as she added, turning her back to him and waving over her shoulder, "Bye bye, doll face!"

Her footsteps grew further away, but halted right by the exit, and Komaeda's feathers were ruffled with irritation by the time she spoke in a cool, solemn voice, "Komaeda-kun, have you seen anyone suspicious around here?"

"No, I only just woke up when you came in."

Komaeda was once told, "Lies only become easier to tell as you continue making them, until you've perfected an unbreakable mask that no one will be able to see through."  Luckily, that appeared to be the case, and a small smirk crept on to the white-haired boy's face as Enoshima slammed the door shut.  He rolled on to his side and buried his face into the soft fabric of his pillow, lulled to sleep by the memory of Enoshima's voice, completely clueless of his lie, " _Huh_?  ...Aww... that totally sucks, so Mr. Future Foundation got away?"


	2. Future Foundation

_An inferno of reds and oranges was all Komaeda could see, the heat seeping into his bones as if burning him from the inside out. He tried to scream, but his mouth was taped firmly shut, and his thrashing was limited by the wooden stake he was bound to. From all around him, the applaud of the people outside of the fire filled his ears, and he could vaguely smell the scent of his own flesh charring. Tears cascaded down from his eyes, melting away on to his shirt, which was torn and stained with crimson red. The crowd surrounding him danced in the flames like a parade of shadows, their manic smiles as they hurled bottles at his blazing body like that of a melange of demons. He was haunted by their laughter, a muffled scream spilling passed his lips as his consciousness faded away._

Komaeda awoke with a start, his wings outstretched and his dull grayish blue eyes widened in panic. He tore at his sheets in a desperate attempt to disentangle himself from their grasp, but a whimper from his bedside brought his frenzy to a halt.

“K-Komaeda-kun, p-p-please calm d-down!” The familiar voice of Mikan Tsumiki resounded throughout his enclosure, and he breathed out, the day’s previous events flooding back into his head and reassuring him that he wasn’t there.

He couldn’t hold back the humorless laugh that escaped passed his lips; how could he be relieved to be in this Hell?

“...Komaeda-kun...?” He turned to look at the timid girl over his shoulder, resulting in her sputtering out an apology with tears in her eyes, “A-Ah, I’m s-s-sorry for talking, it’s j-j-just that Enoshima-san t-told me you were h-h-hurt a-a-and-!”

“It’s okay, Tsumiki,” Komaeda spoke in a soft voice that he knew would soothe the girl, his words dripping honey as he continued, “Ah, but I do feel rather sore, do you have any painkillers?”

She nodded immediately, as if any delay would make him angry, and retrieved a black bag from off of the table, scouring through a miscellany of different medical supplies until she finally found the bottle of pills. He watched as she dumped two into the palm of her hand, offering them to him as she stammered out, “...H-Here, Komaeda-kun...”

“Thank you,” he took the white tablets out of her hand and tossed them into his mouth, grimacing at the foul taste they left in his mouth when he swallowed them, wishing that he had asked for water before he’d taken them.

He contemplated taking the bottle of pills out of Tsumiki’s hand as she put them back in her bag, knowing full well that the nurse wouldn’t be able to show much resistance, and dump the entire bottle into his mouth. A wry smile crept on to his face at the thought, but the painkillers were already lost amidst the other supplies in her bag, and he doubted he’d be able to get to them before she called for help.

“...U-Um... Komaeda-kun, d-do you need a-anything else...?” She asked timidly, and he tipped his head to the side so that his messy white hair cast a shadow over his already dully colored eyes. “...No, I’m fine, you can go now...” He wasn’t sure that he could really handle the girl’s presence any longer, as the medicine seemed to be working into his system, numbing his body so that he could hardly even feel his hips, let alone the pain.

And, as it was, he didn’t particularly like Tsumiki much. She harbored the most sickening despair he had ever seen in anyone, and just her mere presence irritated him. Usually, he didn’t snap at her because he thought she might inject him with some strange drug in a panic, but he wasn’t the nicest to her at times either.

“...O-Okay...” She stuttered as she strapped the bag over her shoulder, her legs trembling as she walked to his enclosure door, “O-Oh! Enoshima-san t-told me to tell y-you that your p-p-performance is soon, s-so you should probably get r-ready...”

Komaeda grimaced at her words, and she seemed to take that as a sign that he was angry with her, because she whimpered out a quick ‘goodbye’, and practically tripped over her own feet running out of his enclosure. He flapped his wings a couple of times, a sigh slipping passed his lips as he forced himself to leave the comfort of his blankets, his muscles aching in protest, and take shaky steps around his cage. His legs were stiff at first, and he had to outstretch his wings several times before they felt okay enough to fly with, but he didn’t think that his body was sore enough that he would completely mess up the performance. Of course, it would hurt, but he’d been through far worse.

He paced back and forth until he’d worked movement back into his stiff limbs, readjusting the white robe hanging from his shoulders so that it didn’t take away from his ‘beauty’. From outside of his room, he could hear voices chatting excitedly to each other, and the hurried thud! of footsteps. Junko’s booming voice overpowered the others, however, and he listened as she repeated her normal lines, “ _Hey, hey! I bet all of you are are ready for a stunning performance from Nagito Komaeda_!”

He was transfixed by the door, waiting for a bustling crowd of visitors to burst through, his body refusing to move until they arrived. He blinked slowly, and just like that, the voices became clearer and a mob of thrilled Monokuma members came rushing in, the flashing lights of cameras blinding Komaeda momentarily as they fought to get to the front of his enclosure. He let out a dry laugh that was lost in the cheers, one that was filled with mockery, and scanned the crowd, not daring move until they settled down.

His eyes wandered to the doors, where someone sat leaning against the wall, looking just as nervous as they did suspicious. The same man from before, he realized, and he looked away when the stranger’s green eyes met his own. Why was he there? He narrowed his grayish blue eyes as the loud voices were reduced to quiet whispers, deciding not to ponder much over it as he flapped his wings a couple of times, setting himself at a steady pace as he flew off of the ground. Immediately, the crowd roared, as they always did, and he winced at the light from their cameras, flying a few circles around the enclosure so that they could get a good look.

He wondered briefly if the man was watching him, but as his feet touched the ground once again, he noticed that the stranger had disappeared. A strange feeling of disappointment festered within his chest as he spun in the air, a lone black feather fluttering down from his wings and landing in the mob of the screaming men and women, all eager to get their hands on it. Probably to sell, he thought disgustedly.

He was beginning to feel exhausted, either due to the numbness of his hips or his lack of stamina in general, and touched back on to the ground. The people at the front of the crowd reached into his enclosure in an effort to grab at his wings, and he took a few steps backward, preparing himself for the next act. However, before he could, a loud buzzing resounded throughout the room, and he glanced wildly around.

Red; red filled his eyes as he staggered backwards, the mass painted with the crimson color as they stumbled into each other, screaming out profanities. His back hit the bars of his enclosure, and he suddenly began to feel a terrible sense of panic as the remnants of the screaming crowd disappeared, leaving him alone in his enclosure. The lights dyed the silver floor tiles scarlet, like red paint on a white canvas, and his breaths came out quick and uneven as he lunged for his door, trying desperately to push it open. He heard screams; that’s all he could hear. The red around him was beginning to look like blood, a pool of blood that would swallow him whole, leaving him drowning in its crimson depths.

His eyes were widened in alarm as he fought with the lock, flapping his wings wildly in panic. But when his efforts proved futile, he let out a self deprecating laugh and stumbled backwards, collapsing on to his bed. His breaths were coming out unsteady, and he couldn’t contain the laughter spilling passed his lips as his room was decorated with scarlet, his ears filled with the screams of Monokuma members fighting to escape this nightmare, and he buried his face in his pillow. He didn’t know when he lost consciousness, drowning in the dark depths of despair.

~*~

His throat was dry; unbearably so. That was the first thing that Komaeda noticed upon awakening, and the second, was that he heard voices, ones that were unfamiliar to him. He fluttered his dull blue eyes open slowly, grimacing at the light that filtered through his enclosure’s bars, and blinked a couple of times in an attempt to adjust his vision. Two people were talking quietly to each other from outside of his enclosure, and he peered at them through the cage. One man adorning white glasses and long lashes was saying something to a familiar man with messy brown hair. Ah. The previous events began flooding back into his cluttered memory, and he realized that this was the same man that he’d thought had been so suspicious before.

“...Who are you...?” His voice came out raspy, probably from his lack of water, and he tried to sit up, only to fall backwards on to his sheets. The green eyed man whirled around at the sound of his voice, obviously having not expected him to wake up, and cleared his throat. From beside him, the other man turned to Komaeda, his light blue eyes icy as he spoke in a cool voice, “Do not ask questions, Nagito Komaeda.”

Nagito blinked his grayish blue eyes slowly, his expression darkening as the stranger continued, “Just know, you are now property of Future Foundation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written pretty horribly, because I was having issues overall with my writing, but I hope it was still enjoyable. Still trying to keep them in character, but I think I'm failing!


	3. Savagery

“...Future Foundation...?” The name was unfamiliar on Komaeda’s tongue, and his grayish blue eyes probably looked like murky pools of confusion to the two men in front of him as he tilted his head to the side.

“Yes, you will be under the surveillance of this man,” the stranger with the glasses continued in a completely unsympathetic tone, gesturing to the brown haired man, whom straightened his posture upon being addressed.

“...My name is Hajime Hinata,” he pretended to readjust his tie, and when he looked back up, his eyes met Komaeda’s in a blend of dull blue and green, “I’m not exactly the most interesting person, but I hope we can get along...”

Komaeda didn’t understand, but he felt as if he had butterflies in his stomach just listening to this man. It wasn’t anything as complicated or abstract as love, but he couldn’t deny that he was entranced by something about the stranger. He wondered if maybe the years of living in isolation was getting to his head.

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you, Hinata-kun!” He smiled and flapped his wings a few times, letting out a humorless laugh before continuing, “I know you probably already know this, but my name’s Nagito Komaeda!”

He waited quietly for the man’s response, which was a blunt but not rude, “...Yeah, I know...”

“There’s a time and place for introductions, and now is neither of those,” the man Komaeda had yet to learn the name of interjected in an annoyed tone, pushing his white glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he continued, turning his icy gaze to the white haired boy, “There will be no need for violence if you come with us quietly.”

“Of course, there’s no way someone like _me_ could take you on!” Komaeda let out a breathy laugh, his expression inquiring as he gesture towards the cage door with one of his wings, “Ah, but if you don’t mind me asking, how exactly are you going to get me out?”

Almost as if on cue, the doors behind the two men were violently swung open with much more force then needed, and in came lumbering a large man with bulky muscles and dark black hair. He let out a hearty laugh, and Komaeda shied away from his loud, booming voice, “I’ll take care of that!”

The white haired boy didn’t think he had heard anyone as enthusiastic in his entire life, and he wrapped his soft wings around his body, unsettled by the roaring voice of this man. He had never particularly liked loud things.

“ _Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh_!” The man bellowed as he stomped towards Komaeda’s enclosure, gripping two of the iron bars enslaving him and yanking them apart, so that there was a gap where he could get out.

Komaeda thought that any normal person would be completely and utterly dumbfounded by the man’s abnormal strength. However, he had never been the most rational person, and he found himself far more intrigued by the stranger’s power then anything else. He hesitantly lifted himself off of where he had been lying on his bed, ignoring his muscles protests, but flinched back when the man reached out to grab him.

“Hey, I won’t hurt you!” He reassured in a thunderous voice, letting out a hearty laugh before continuing, “My name’s Nekomaru Nidai, I just want to carry you! You’re so thin, I didn’t think you would be able to walk!”

“Ah, there’s no need for that,” despite his attempts to avoid it, Komaeda found himself being hoisted on to Nekomaru’s back, burying his face uncomfortably into the crook of the man’s neck; exquisitely colored feathers ruffled.

Hajime was eyeing him as the four of them embarked on their journey out of the facility, or so Komaeda thought, but his cluttered mind wasn’t really functioning correctly, so much so that it took him a few moments to realize that they weren’t leaving the building. No, they were heading towards the rooms that had housed the other enclosures, starting with one whose name tag read ‘Gundham Tanaka’. Komaeda recognized that name.

Gundham was borne from a woman that had bred with a dog, though that was only a rumor, and had the contorted features of a human and canine. However, when they entered the room, there was no one there, just an empty cage with a door that appeared to have been mauled by something. Only an animal desperate to escape its confinement would be able to do such damage. The next room they entered was a bit different; the room of Ibuki Mioda.

Ibuki had been enslaved for her abnormally good senses, and was often put under torturous tests that would acquire nothing more then the sick, twisted satisfaction of whoever performed them. Her cage was in shambles, the chandelier that was once dangling elegantly above her enclosure lay in a jumble of glass on the floor, the foam in her couch was torn out and littering the ground, and in the center of it all was Ibuki. Her fists were littered with cuts that welled up with crimson red beads of blood, and her robe was ripped at the back, revealing the bruises on her pale skin. She was unconscious, her multicolored hair cascading down and passed her shoulders in a tangled mess of whites, blacks, and pinks.

“...Such despair...” The white haired boy murmured quietly to himself as the man adorning glasses knelt down beside the enclosure’s bars and reached his hand through to check if she was still breathing, making a small ‘hmph’ sound and standing back up.

“She’s alive,” he deduced in an unsympathetic tone, nodding at Nekomaru as he continued, “Put him down, he’ll be fine. We have more important things to worry about.”

Komaeda relished in the way that his feet touched the cold, silver floor tiles when Nekomaru let him down, readjusting his white robe so that his bruised skin was less distinct. He noticed that Hajime had grown considerably paler, probably disturbed by the brutality of the scene before him, and the white haired boy let out a small sigh, “...She’s really quite talented, what a waste... I wish I could have taken her place...”

“Don’t say something like that,” Komaeda’s dull blue eyes widened in actual _surprise_ at Hajime’s words, and he desperately hoped that the other boy couldn’t see his shock.

Years of seclusion had ravaged his mind, and no one had ever had enough kindliness in them at this Hell to even think of deterring Komaeda from his self deprecating comments. He could feel a long forgotten warmth festering in his chest; one that he had thought was forever lost in the blackness of his heart.

“Ah, I appreciate your kindness, but I’m really not worth it,” he refused to let Hajime see how disgustingly happy his words made Komaeda feel; surely he’d scare the other boy off and then that little glimmer of hope would die out. He really was selfish, hiding away his true colors just so that he wouldn’t be alone.

“...I’m sure that’s not true, you don’t seem that bad...” Nagito wanted to laugh at how inaccurate those words were, but he held his tongue as Hajime continued, fiddling with his tie for what Komaeda thought was the fifth time that day, “...Um, I know that you never got introduced to him, but that guy with the glasses is Togami...”

Togami. Komaeda inwardly repeated the name over and over in his head, wondering why it sounded so familiar. However, before he could ponder over it any further, Nekomaru and Togami returned, Ibuki hanging limply off of the bulky man’s back.

“We’ll search the other enclosures, and return back to headquarters afterwards with whatever information we can get our hands on.” Togami announced in an utterly unenthusiastic voice, turning his back to them so that they could exit the room.

Komaeda noticed out of the corner of his eye that a cockroach was hopping around in the corner of the room where the silver floor tiles were coated in a thick layer of dust, and wondered if maybe the others weren’t taken care of as well as he had been. He hadn’t realized he’d spaced out, watching the small bug make its way across the floor, until Hajime lightly tapped his shoulder.

“We’re going to look for more that have been left behind, come on,” he prodded, and Komaeda found himself following the brown haired boy, transfixed by Hajime’s back as they headed to the room that had harbored Chihiro Fujisaki.

Chihiro had never had a deformity, or at least not one that normal people would categorize as ‘deformed’, but Junko had never been a _normal_ person. The girl was transgender, and Enoshima exploited her for that, for something that she shouldn’t even be made to feel _bad_ about. Just thinking about the woman made Komaeda’s blood boil, but he disguised his disgust as they entered the room. Immediately, a foul odor wafted from where the girl had been caged, and he narrowed his eyes as he examined her cell.

The bed sheets were stained with a miscellany of different colors, but Komaeda recognized them as many substances, and he had to stop himself from gagging. Chihiro was nowhere to be found, but he noticed that the enclosure’s bars were streaked with blood, and that’s when he realized that there was a trail of crimson leading out of the room.

“...A trail of blood...?” Hajime mirrored Komaeda’s thoughts, his light green eyes meeting the white haired boy’s in a moment of understanding as he turned to follow the path of red, “We have to find where it leads...!”

However, before either of them could act, a small whimper resounded from the corner of the room, followed by a loud shriek. Komaeda recognized that voice. Togami immediately strolled towards where it had come from, hidden underneath the bed soiled with disgusting bodily liquids, his voice level as he spoke, “Come out, there’s no use hiding.”

Another snivel came from under the mattress, and the face of Mikan Tsumiki became more definable, her long, choppy dark purple hair obscuring most of her features. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed, her voice feeble as she cried out, “I didn’t do i-it! I-It wasn’t m-me ! F-Forgive me! P-Please!”

Hajime seemed taken aback by the girl’s begging, but Togami didn’t even bat an eye, walking through the gap in the cell and kneeling down beside her, retrieving a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. Tsumiki squeaked and attempted to flee, but she tripped over her own foot and landed in a heap on the floor, her body convulsing with sobs as Togami bound her wrists together.

“Mikan Tsumiki, you’ve been working at Monokuma for an estimated two years now, since you last went missing,” he remarked as he pulled the weeping girl on to her feet unsympathetically, and she responded with a whine, stumbling after him as he dragged her forward, “You’re pathetic.”

Nekomaru didn’t speak, but the look in his eyes portrayed a fury that Komaeda understand all too well, and he didn’t even try to conceal his disgust for Tsumiki as she staggered forward. Hajime gulped, and Komaeda noted that the look in his eyes resembled that of someone who had just witnessed one of the most gruesome crimes on planet Earth, as he turned around to follow the group. Togami questioned the blubbering Tsumiki as they followed the track of scarlet, which seemed to increase in amount as it continued, rounding corners and stretching through hallways until it finally ended in one corridor.

The air seemed to become colder as they followed the track, which was now much fresher, and turned to head down one hall. Komaeda bumped into Hajime’s back, however, when the brown haired boy halted abruptly, and he looked passed the others shoulder to see what had startled him. His grayish blue eyes widened. Slumped against the wall was Chihiro, her pale skin splattered with crimson, like red paint on a white canvas. Her expression was one of pure agony, blood dripping from an injury on her head as she stared lifelessly at her own mutilated body.

Even _Togami_ looked disturbed by the scene in front of him, but nonetheless, he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and spoke in a voice that faltered slightly, “There’s no saving her.”

And just like that, he turned his back to her mangled corpse, looking paler then usual as he pushed in-between Hajime and Komaeda.

“ _Hey, what if she’s still alive_?!” Nekomaru roared in a voice that caused Tsumiki to whimper even more, his eyes emitting an electric blue gleam as he turned to confront Togami, “You didn’t even check!”

“She’s not,” Togami’s voice was laced with annoyance as he turned to glare at the bulky man over his shoulder, icy blue eyes narrowed, “Only a corpse could look so full of despair.”

Nekomaru didn’t reply.

~*~

The remaining enclosures lacked any bodies, dead or alive, but it was noted that some of the cage doors had been opened, while in others the cells were wrecked, probably destroyed out of desperation to escape. Togami took samples of some blood, but overall declared that the investigation was ‘a complete waste of time’, and that he ‘could get more done if he didn’t have idiots tagging along with him’. Komaeda found himself wondering what life awaited him as they finally embarked on their journey out of the Hell that he had been enslaved in for so long, noticing out of the corner of his eye a room that they hadn’t checked. The name tag read **Izuru Kamukura**.  He decided not to tell them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like my writing was good in the first chapter, deteriorated in the second chapter, and then made its comeback in this one ^.^' I'm really questioning why Hajime is so hard for me to write, because I literally take like twenty minutes thinking up his lines every time he has to talk. I hope it was satisfactory though!


	4. Attacked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Komaeda's been freed, but does that really mean he'll be safe?

Snow was falling from the sky when Komaeda took his first step outside of the Monokuma building in years, a beautiful snow that fluttered down on to the concrete. He couldn’t disguise the awe on his face as he reached out to catch one of the snowflakes in the palm of his hand, watching as it melted, only to be replaced by more. He couldn’t recall a time that he had felt this relieved, relishing in the luck that had provided him such fortune.

“Ah, Hinata-kun, what month is it?” He queried curiously, not really sure if he even remembered all of the months after all those years spent tortured and isolated.

The brown haired boy looked up at the pale blue sky, cloudless yet still snowflakes descended down from its blank canvas, “I haven’t really looked in a while, but I’d guess either January or February.”

Komaeda nodded slowly even though Hajime wasn’t even looking in his direction, his bare feet suddenly feeling much colder as they touched the ground, an icy gust of wind causing him to grimace. He subconsciously wrapped his robe tighter around his body, shivering as he struggled to keep up with the others, whom were heading towards a large white van parked by the sidewalk.

“...Are you cold...?” Hajime’s voice interrupted the silence that Komaeda had been savoring, and he turned to glance at the other, whom was smiling slightly as he continued awkwardly, “Sorry, that was a stupid question, huh?” Komaeda blinked the snow out of his eyes, letting out a small chuckle as he replied, “Of course not, Hinata-kun, I’m grateful that you would care about someone like me.”

The brown haired boy furrowed his brow, his green eyes like pools of bewilderment as he responded, “...I don’t understand you, what do you mean by that?”

“That’s simple, Hinata-kun,” he flapped his wings a couple of times to rid them of the snowflakes that were seeping into his very core, shuddering as he continued, “I’m not worthy of such an amazing person’s kindness.”

Hajime blinked his light green eyes slowly, and Komaeda watched as the snow fluttered down on to his black suit, dotting it with white, before replying awkwardly, “...I still don’t really understand, but I don’t think you’re a bad person...”

Ah, there it was again. Komaeda’s chest felt a hundred times lighter, and he was grateful that they had reached the van because he couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he opened the door to the backseat. Togami was in the driver’s seat, while Nekomaru sat in the passenger side, and Hajime was in the back with Komaeda and Ibuki. Tsumiki was lying in the trunk, still weeping pitifully but making no effort to escape. It was a bit uncomfortable with his wings scrunched together, but Komaeda decided it wasn’t nearly as bad as the treachery he had faced at Monokuma, so he settled on gazing out the window as the engine roared to life. He could feel Ibuki’s unconscious body leaning against his shoulder as the car made an abrupt turn, but he didn’t bother moving her, too focused on how his his breath fogged up the window.

“Hey, why’s nobody saying anything?” Nekomaru bellowed, reaching to crank up the radio as he continued, “Liven up, you guys!”

“Don’t you dare.” Togami threatened, but it was too late, and suddenly a male singer’s voice emitted from the speakers, screaming so loud into the microphone that it it made Komaeda’s ears hurt. So much so that he curled up in a ball, covering his ears with his hands and burying his face into his knees.

“That’s too loud,” Hajime complained, though Komaeda wasn’t sure if it was his own opinion or for the white haired boy’s sake, “Turn it down.”

Komaeda wanted to thank the green eyed boy for his help when the music suddenly became a lot quieter, but he was too fixated on Ibuki, whom was stirring beside him. The girl fluttered her vibrantly colored pink eyes open, letting out a small moan and leaning back into the seat. And then she screamed. Her face spelled out pure panic, and she seemed to find some sort of solace in Komaeda, because she lunged for him as best as she could when she was restricted by a seat belt and cried out, “Hey, hey, you’re the boy with the wings! Where are we? Did you guys kidnap Ibuki?!”

“...Ah, no, that isn’t the case, Ibuki-san...” Komaeda’s lips curved upwards into a reassuring smile as he spoke softly, letting out a small chuckle when the girl’s grip on his arm tightened, “...Please calm down, it’s okay...”

“Ibuki doesn’t like this! Where are you taking her?!” She demanded in a thunderously loud voice that pierced Komaeda’s ears, and he leaned backwards against the window to distance himself from the boisterous girl as she continued, “Hey, this reminds Ibuki of one of those movies! You know, the ones where a girl is kidnapped by some super secret group and trained to be one of them?!”

“...H-Hey...!” Hajime stammered out when the girl moved to untie her seat-belt, knocking into her when the vehicle swerved passed a black van that was going unbearably slow, squishing Komaeda against the window as the brown haired boy continued, this time his annoyance directed towards Togami, “...What are you doing...?!”

The blonde remained composed despite the chaos taking place behind him, his icy blue eyes piercing the three of them from where they reflected off of the rear view mirror, “I’m driving, try it some time.”

Hajime scampered off of Ibuki, who was flailing her arms wildly while exclaiming ‘Ibuki would really appreciate it if you didn’t crash the car’, his expression exasperated. Komaeda smiled reassuringly at him, but the boy just nodded curtly at him in acknowledgment, and turned to look out the window, his mood obviously spoiled.

“...E-Eeek...!” Tsumiki whimpered out from where she lay in the trunk as a black van whirred from beside them, it’s tires screeching against the concrete, “...P-Please drive m-more c-c-carefully...!”

“...Tch, I hadn’t expected them to find us so soon...” Togami muttered under his breath as he stomped down on gas pedal, causing the car to lurch forward away from the black van, which followed suite.

All around them, a miscellany of different cars blared their horns, and Komaeda heard Hajime grunt when they bumped into one of the other vehicles, causing them to swerve into the other lane. The van rammed into the back of their car, and Komaeda found himself clutching tightly on to the back of Nekomaru’s seat as Togami stepped down harder on the gas pedal; Tsumiki’s wails for help resounding throughout the vehicle. Hajime’s knuckles were turning white with how tightly he grasped on to his seat to keep himself from lurching forward, and he cursed under his breath when suddenly the side view mirror shattered into tiny shards of glass that scattered on the road like shimmering crystals. Whoever their attackers were, they were armed. Komaeda didn’t hesitate when Nekomaru yelled for everyone to duck down, and he heard Tsumiki screaming as more bullets grazed the outside of the car, Ibuki’s cries filling his ears.

The loud _clink!_ of glass shattering into pieces echoed in the white haired boy’s ears, but he didn’t look to see what had broken, just kept his face buried in his knees. He could hear Togami muttering something under his breath, the snow obscuring his vision as the windshield wipers frantically tried to scrape the ice off of the glass. Gunshot after gunshot rang out, sometimes followed by the thud! of their car or someone else’s being grazed by the bullet, and he wrapped his wings around his thin frame. He waited patiently for their attackers to stop firing, but they seemed to have an endless supply of weapons, and he could feel the car sliding each time they sped over a part of the road that was frozen over. His heart thudded with panic, the natural reaction of a human in danger, but Komaeda wasn’t really scared, and he glanced over at Hajime, whom had turned pale as a ghost. The brown haired boy’s eyes didn’t seem as panicked as one might expect, but he was obviously losing his composure, and he grunted when the van rammed into them again.

Komaeda imagined that the police had already been called by the melange of different people that had crashed because of them, and he couldn’t help the surprised gasp that slipped passed his lips when Togami reversed back into their attackers, sending the van sliding backwards on the ice. Taking the moment of freedom, the blonde sped forward as fast as possible, but not quick enough to avoid the last bullet shot at them before the van rolled down into the forest of trees beyond the guardrail. Tsumiki let out one of the most bloodcurdling screams Komaeda had ever heard, and Togami cursed under his breath, his eyes fixed on the timid girl through the rear view mirror. Komaeda straightened his posture, and peered over his shoulder at her, his dull blue eyes widening at what he saw. The back window’s glass had been pulverized, littering the girl’s thin body with shards that pierced her skin, but the most noticeable thing was her trembling shoulder. A bullet wound gushing crimson red blood that stained the trunk of the car scarlet had her sobbing violently, her little body convulsing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a bit longer then the others, but I did it! I hope it was satisfactory, still working a bit with the personalities but I'm getting better, I think!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Fanfiction I've ever written, so critique it as much as you wish! I'm completely open to anything anyone may correct me on, as long as they don't freak out on me for my misdoings. I'd really like to know if I've characterized Hinata and Komaeda right, because this is my first time writing about them, so they may come off a little OOC, but I hope to get a better understanding of their characters as the story progresses (Hajime is pretty hard for me to write for some reason, I'm not sure why)! Please write it in the comments if you think anything needs to be tweaked or fixed, just don't be a total maul me over it and we'll get along fine! (^.^)


End file.
